Chapter 7 Remy
Remy
“Hey, beautiful! Hey, my babies!” Kennedy squealed as she opened the door for me and then greeted her godchildren. My daughter almost knocked her over, brushing past her because I knew she was in search of Kenn’s daughter, Juree.
It was crazy how close we had gotten to the Jennings over these last couple of years.
Sure, we both had our own families, who were a major part of our village, but they had become staples in our lives, too.
When Zo asked me if it was okay for Jaxon to be our kids’ godfather, I didn’t think twice.
Jaxon was like my big brother, and he was Zo’s right-hand man.
It was only appropriate. All of our kids were raised together and were either Godbrothers/sisters or cousins.
They even called Ms. Meena and Mr. Jennings Nana and Papa.
These crazy ass people were the family I didn’t expect to have, but I love them, nonetheless.
After Kenn gave my babies all their hugs and kisses, we hugged, and I walked into her home.
We had playdates often, but today was just a chill kind of day at the house.
More than anything, though, I came over because I needed to talk to Jaxon today.
Over this last week, I had barely been able to sleep or focus.
I didn’t expect this situation to take as big a toll on me as it has.
It wasn’t until Zo got back from Bolivia and I looked in his eyes that I realized I was slowly losing it.
I could barely sleep or eat, I can’t focus, and I’m not even sleeping with my husband.
It’s been a lot to process. He keeps asking what’s wrong, but I have no answers. I just tell him I’m tired or not in the mood. I’ve never said that to him in all our years together. I know it’s only a matter of time before he becomes suspicious, if he isn’t already.
“I made a little spread for you if you want something to eat,” Kenn offered as she motioned toward the kitchen.
Even though I had nibbled over the last week, I still peeked into the kitchen to see what she had.
In my opinion, we could all hold our weight in the kitchen, but aside from Ms. Meena, Kennedy could really throw down.
She was the most versatile. She cooked and made sweets.
Her cakes, pies, and banana pudding reminded me of summers in Louisiana with my grandma.
So, when she asked if I wanted something, I knew I'd find something I liked.
I walked over to the counter, grabbed two strawberry crunch cookies, and walked outside to the backyard. I bit into it and shimmied as we sat and watched the kids play.
“So, what’s been going on? And where’s my Goddie?
” I asked as I looked around for Jace, the newest addition to the family, like he would be outside hiding in the bushes.
He was so tiny and handsome, and he never failed to give me baby fever whenever I saw or held him.
For years, they joked that I was the most fertile and had the most kids, but now Kennedy has evened the score.
"He’s upstairs with his dad. Jax is putting him down for a nap," she said as I pouted.
I had been looking forward to holding him until Kennedy threatened to make me take him home.
As expected, conversation flowed quickly.
We spent the next minutes cackling and discussing Mafia, business, and everything in between.
We connected in a strange way, but once we realized neither of us had bad intentions, our relationship grew organically.
Over the years, we developed a solid friendship.
Jaxon finally emerged from the house and went straight over to my boys to talk to them.
Then he came over to us, and I stood to hug him.
He handed Kennedy his cup because he said the boys had challenged him to a race.
We laughed while he got dusted not once, not twice, but three times, and he blamed it on the bourbon that he had been drinking.
Then he came and sat down on the bench next to Kennedy, wrapping her in his arms.
“Baby, you gone have to rub my legs tonight.” He said, winded as he kissed her forehead, and she shook her head at him.
“If you think that you can race kids at your age-” Interrupting Kennedy was the sound of Jace crying on the monitor.
“Let me go get him.” She said as she got up and went into the house to deal with the baby, leaving us two there alone.
I wanted to humor him with small talk, but we didn’t have a moment to spare. I needed to talk to him quickly.
“Jaxon, I need to talk to you about something,” I spat as I breathed a deep sigh and turned toward him.
“What’s up? You good?” He sat up and went on the defensive instantly. He could see the worry on my face.
“Yes and no,” I said as I fought in my head about how I was going to word this.
He put the cup that he had been babysitting down and gave me his undivided attention. So, instead of dragging it out any longer, I decided to just spit it out.
“Do you remember when I was telling you about the guy that I was engaged to the first time? From Louisiana? In the Weston Mafia?”
He didn’t respond; his eyes went to the sky like he was trying to search his memory for that information I had given him years ago. “Yeah, yeah. The one that died?” He asked as it had finally come back to him.
“Yes, him. I got a letter the other day from an insurance company saying that I had an unclaimed death benefit from them.”
“Okay?” He asked, either confused or as if he wanted to guide me along to the point.
"Well, the letter was addressed to Remy Weston. I learned he forged a marriage document a month after we met. We were legally married for four months before he died."
The way he fell back in the chair is the same way I almost fell back from my computer. He didn’t say anything, just looked at me with a blank expression that I knew all too well.
“It gets worse.”
“Nah, Rem. It needs to get better.” He cut me off, eyes wide and brows raised.
"It doesn’t. The insurance company said a death was reported, but they couldn’t get an official death certificate.
If I had one, I could provide it, and they’d pay out the benefits.
I don’t need the money, but I wondered why they couldn’t get the certificate.
So, I applied for it myself, and it’s not there. It’s never been filed."
“Rem.” He started before I stopped him.
“Jaxon, I know! If he’s never had a death certificate, then that means I am technically not his widow, which means I’ve been married to the fucking Weasel for almost a decade. Which means, I’m a bigamist!”
“What did Zo say?” He asked immediately, and my silence caused him to scoff and stand up to leave.
“Jax, please! Sit down. Please. I haven’t told him yet because I know him. I’d rather let the beast sleep until I can figure this out. That’s why I’m here.”
“Rem, Zo is my nigga. I can’t keep something like this from him.
As a man, I wouldn’t want Kenn to keep shit like this from me.
This is bigger than you think; your safety could be at stake.
We’re the Mafia, Shorty. Something like this takes it to another level and puts the whole organization at risk. ” He huffed and sat back down.
“I respect that, Jaxon. But I don’t intend on keeping it from him forever. Only until I find the solution.” I pleaded.
He gave me a warning stare and didn’t respond, so now I had to pull out the big guns.
“Remember, you said you owe me for life? I was going to let that one slide, but you’re forcing my hand on cashing in nearly seven years later.
” I chuckled in distress. I hated to pull the card, but I came here for advice and not for him to rat me out to my husband.
I loved their loyalty to each other, but I needed to get this off my chest.
He rubbed his chin and then finally spoke again.
“Look, it’s not as surface as you’re thinking it is.
It’s not just about bigamy. It’s about the bylaws and blood oaths.
Those oaths you take when you’re sworn in protect you from shit like this.
Technically, you’re an heir to the Weston Mafia.
And so are your kids. Kids that are Zo’s bloodline, and they can mandate you to return if anyone finds out about this shit.
” He shook his head like he didn’t even want to think about the fallout from that happening. Then he continued.
“Not only that, but Zo would also be breaking the oath that he was sworn to. According to the bylaws, this would be adultery. He would be instantly demoted and could be seen as disloyal. Because I do owe you one, I won’t say shit.
But you’re putting me in a bad spot if all this comes to light.
You already know I’m riding for you and Zo by any means.
But my word isn’t the law. You have got one week to figure it out.
Investigative work, ONLY. Call muhfuckas, email muhfuckas ONLY.
Don’t put yourself in harm’s way. If you can’t figure out if the marriage is legal or not in a week, then I gotta tell him.
” He said, leaving no room for me to think I could debate his decision.
Over this week, I hadn’t thought of any of this and how it directly affected Zo and our children.
But that made perfect sense. The Mafia was big on family.
Even if they had to glue it together themselves, they stood by it.
I don’t know how that thought slipped through the cracks, but now what’s at stake has made me even more nervous.
I would die a fiery death before my children were ever affiliated with the last name Weston.
And I definitely couldn’t let my husband be exiled from a position that he worked so hard for.
Especially not at the hands of sneaky ass Karlos.
“You got me?” He doubled down and asked, making sure I understood that I was on a running countdown.
"Yeah, I heard you. One week." I mumbled, swiping a hot tear from my cheek as I wondered how I'd find a way out of this.
“And you’re sure this nigga is dead, Remy?” He double checked.
“I’m positive,” I assured him.
“Then you gotta step into your wifey bag and get the nigga declared dead. If you do that, then you’re a widow, and this shit goes away.” He shrugged as he took one final sip from his cup and sat back in the chair again.
When he said it, the biggest smile crept on my face through tears.
I literally went to law school and graduated top of my class, yet that hadn’t crossed my mind once in a week.
Not that I wasn’t competent; it was just that I was so upset about what it meant for my marriage that I wasn’t thinking.
I was so caught up in the fact that no one had filed, but I didn’t stop to think that, as his legal wife, I could be the one to have it done.
But this is why they named Jax the negotiator.
He was able to stay calm and find a solution.
Of course, when it didn’t involve Kennedy, I saw firsthand how he lost his common sense when it came to her.
“That’s going to be a long-drawn-out process, definitely not one week. But thank you for giving me that angle. My head has been so messed up, I didn’t even think about going the legal route.” I admitted.
He laughed. “Nah, not the legal route, Rem. You might not want to be, but you’re in the Mafia, Shorty. We pull up, and it’s done. What the hell are you sitting in court for? Don’t you know judges in Louisiana? Who do we need to pull up on?” He corrected me.
I smiled despite the weight of the moment. Even though he threatened to out me, I knew I had come to the right person.
“Yes, I know a couple.”
He nodded as he took another sip from his drink. “Then it’s done. But tell him, Rem. You’re used to having to figure out shit in your organization. This ain’t that, you gotta trust your husband. You know the same nigga I know.” He insisted again.
He had a point. I barely had to think around Zo; when I was around him, I was just a girl.
Because he always had shit figured out. But for some reason, this hit differently; it felt like betrayal that I was trying to cover up.
How was I supposed to walk into my house and tell my husband that we might not even be legally married?
That I was potentially the wife of another man?
I washed the tears from my face and just stared out at the kids who had begun to play some version of hide and seek.
The girls were giggling loud as hell while they barely hid.
The sight of them doubling over with laughter made us both laugh.
Eventually, Kennedy wound up coming back out with the baby, and I didn’t even wait for her to sit down before I was taking him from her arms.
For the next couple of hours, I smelled and kissed little baby toes while he giggled like a toddler, played patty cake, went on the hammock, and swung back and forth with him, singing him a song and rocking him back to sleep.
“I told you, Remy, if you come over here and spoil him, you have to take him with you. What the hell am I supposed to do when you leave? Heifer, I can’t sing!” Kennedy said, looking at me with playful frustration, and it took everything I had not to holler out and scare him as he slept peacefully.
After I loaded up on sweet treats to-go, the kids said goodbye to their godparents, and we got into the awaiting security vehicle that would take us home, I checked my phone.
I didn’t have a message from Zo. Aside from the message that I sent him letting him know that I had made it, I hadn’t spoken to him all day.
It was unlike him not to check in, and my guilty conscience was starting to believe he sensed something was wrong.
But I pushed it out of my mind, thinking that maybe I was just in my head about it and overthinking.
I figured he was probably busy with work or had been called somewhere.
I went back to his message thread and let him know that we were on the way home.
Then I checked his location and saw that he was already there.
I checked the logs, and he hadn’t left home all day.
That gave me another uneasy feeling. Up until this point, I knew that marrying Zo was the best decision I had ever made.
He made love feel easy, and life feel less complicated.
Everyone around us had faced tests in their marriage, but until now, our marriage had been a breeze.
It was something deep in my soul, telling me that this was about to test the hell out of our union.
And I don’t know if I was ready for the outcome.
All I could hope was that we came out on the other side of this, as strong as we had walked into it.